Friday, February 5, 2010

At first we thought the sun was going to come out and dissipate the fog a little, but the closer we got to town, the more it sank into the thick cloud bank. It was like clouds were sitting in the road ahead and filling up all the spaces around us, daring us to come closer and be swallowed up.

Tori was taking these pictures and talking at the same time."I wish we could walk on the clouds," she said. Then she immediately observed,"but that would be a bad thing, because driving through clouds that thick,we'd never get to school."

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

He clutched a ticket in one tiny fist, and with the other held tightly to the skirt of the tall, blond, beauty who strode swiftly forward. Circus tents ahead were woven tapestries of brilliant color—gold, crimson, cobalt. They pulsed with the rhythm of blaring music, which slid through the chain-link fence and swirled around his naked feet--a lively music which made him want to dance; it sang of great and curious sights. There was chatter and patter and bustle and laughter, so he hurried to keep up with the woman as she approached the ticket gate.

Suddenly, they were caught by the crowd, pressed and funneled into an orderly queue. A few children held tightly to the hands of patient, red-faced fathers, who pulled them forward into line and eased their steps through the turnstile. Others were carried by loudly-sighing mothers whose grins belied complaints and whose eyes reflected the enthusiasm of their little sons and daughters; this was a long-awaited day. Smiles were radiant, and everyone breathed deeply at the welcome scent of caramel corn and cotton candy.

“Ticket please,” came the voice of a superbly polished gentleman in a top hat, and he favored the lovely lady with a well-worn, yet skillful smile. She handed over her ticket as the little boy, copying her movements, held his own fist high.

“Two then, Ma’am?” asked the ticket man.“Well, actually, no. I’m coming in alone.” She brushed the fist from her long silk skirt, and the child fell back, his eyes wide open and confused.“He can’t come in alone, Ma’am, although--who gave him the ticket?”“Well, I gave him the ticket…but that was all a mistake. I can’t very well have him following me about in this busy confusion, can I? It would be dreadfully wearying, so very tiring for one so small; it wouldn't be fair to him, I'm sure.” She painted her words with an oddly desperate cheerfulness.“Very well, then,” said the top hat, “I’ll just—and he pulled out a pair of painted shears….”

The child fell back, frozen hunger on his face, as tiny bits of ticket fell and littered the ground around him.

Far ahead, disappearing swiftly into the crowd, the tall beauty bought herself a pink bouquet of cotton candy and consoled herself by watching the man on the flying trapeze.

Our "Carry on Tuesday" prompt was: Life is a ticket to the greatest show on Earth, a quote from Martin H. Fischer.

Sunday, January 31, 2010

I had to let the engine run for about an hour today, but I finally melted off most of the ice. Some slid off in great glass sheets; some came cracking off in an explosion, when I opened a door; and some stubborn stuff--on the windshield--had to be chiseled with the scrapper after much defrosting from the inside. If you enlarge the picture you can see that the icicles actually anchored the vehicle to the ground.